


In Time

by DarknessAndFyre



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale's Bookshop (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley's Flat (Good Omens), Established Relationship, Grief/Mourning, Loss, M/M, Multi, Sentient Bentley (Good Omens), South Downs Cottage (Good Omens), cut off from ethereal/demonic powers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:41:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23715361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarknessAndFyre/pseuds/DarknessAndFyre
Summary: After being branded traitors by Heaven and Hell, Aziraphale and Crowley are cut off from their powers. Inevitably, this causes big changes in their once immortal lives.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 30
Kudos: 44





	In Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [snagov](https://archiveofourown.org/users/snagov/gifts).



> I read Drawlight’s magnificent work, “The wine dark sea”. I heeded the tags (you should too if you read it) I still sobbed my heart out. Go carefully with this fic and remember: You are so loved, cherished and wanted in this world. Love to all.

In the decades that followed the failed Armageddon, Aziraphale first started to notice changes in his Crowley. He was stroking through the soft red tangle of too red hair when he noticed, a single white hair.

Crowley and Aziraphale had been cut off, slowly losing their powers over the years. Heaven or Hell wouldn’t have anything to do with either of them now. It didn’t matter to them, now anyway. They lived their lives down on Earth, amongst Her beloved humans, like they had wished to.

Aziraphale had retained the use of his Bookshop (well, their Bookshop) in Soho and truth be told, he had bought up the entire Block where the Bookshop had stood. Crowley had kept his flat (their flat) in Mayfair. He had gradually bought up the entire block of flats that he had his flat in.

The Them had arrived in London for College and Crowley wouldn’t take no for an answer so, they had moved into various flats in his building. They had stayed on, got married, had relationships and had children.

Time marched on and Aziraphale and Crowley found themselves in a whole community that they had created themselves.

The Bookshop had eventually been taken over by Anathema and Newt and then by successive children and their own families. Both the Bookskop (A.Z. Fell and Co) and the Block of Flats became like twin beacons of light, shining light into the lives of the lost, confused, scared and vulnerable humans of society.

Crowley became weaker, he got ill, a lot. His bones hurt and his eyes stung. They were spending more and more time at the Cottage in South Downs, their own private sanctuary. Aziraphale fretted that Crowley didn’t have enough time left. He could never have enough time with his so precious demon.

Crowley lay shivering in bed, curled up in Aziraphale’s arms, a pile of warm blankets atop them both. Crowley had to have help with the most basic of things now. Aziraphale made love to his demon softly and carefully now. Gone were the days where his Crowley would take him roughly against the wall, the floor, well, pretty much anywhere really. There was no limit to their lust or lovemaking with each other. Except when there was, like now. He took care of Crowley in every way that he could, making sure that he felt comfortable and felt safe.

Aziraphale even got used to scooping his husband into his, oh, so strong arms, to carry him around. Crowley blushed the first time it had happened. Eventually the demon had reluctantly accepted that he would need a wheelchair. It wasn’t right that Aziraphale felt that he had to carry him around all of the time.

The Cottage had been adapted, as had the Flat and the Bookshop for Crowley’s motorised wheelchair. Crowley had nicknamed it ‘Bentley 2’, not as fast but just as lethal when Crowley was operating it.

In the evenings, when the light was soft and the fireplace still warm, Aziraphale and Crowley began to talk, seriously about the end and what it would mean for both of them. On one of these such evenings, Aziraphale held Crowley’s hand as he stuttered for breath.  
“It’s too soon.” Aziraphale’s body shook as he sobbed.  
Crowley stroked his thumb over Aziraphale’s knuckles.  
“Hey, now. You know I’ll be with you. Always, Angel.”  
Those amber eyes, once so bright and curious, now slightly clouded with cataracts, searched the clear, blue eyes for the truth. The truth that Crowley had always known and seen. The eyes that told him that he had been seen, loved, cherished and oh, so, so wanted.  
He reached up and brushed a tear from his husband’s cheek.  
“Now, we said no tears, didn’t we?” Crowley said softly,  
“Besides,” he paused, coughing, “I’ll see you again. You haven’t seen the last of me.”  
He winked and then, gasped, faltering.  
“I’ll meet you up in the stars. I love you.” One blindingly, stunning smile and then, he just slipped away.  
Aziraphale whispered,  
“I love you, my wily serpent.” He sat there, for a long time, just howling out his grief, tears streaming down his beautiful face. The phone rang, It was Anathema (of course, it was) Aziraphale calmed a little in hearing a familiar voice.

Aziraphale found solace in trips to London, by bus and by train. The Bentley had long since gone. Stopped working when her demonic master had gradually lost his powers. She was still parked up near the flat, in the underground parking below the block of flats in Mayfair. But she was no longer sentient. Just a car now, just a shell. Aziraphale felt like that now, just a shell, half of his soul ripped away when his love had slipped away.

In time, Aziraphale became more and more aware of aches and pains. Anathema’s grandchildren were visiting the South Downs cottage with their own children. The children were playing out in the garden. Aziraphale had just sat down with a cool drink when he felt him.  
He turned his head to see Crowley beside him, as clear as day. He smiled, reaching out his hand,  
“Come on, my love, it’s time to be with me again.”  
Aziraphale took his hand and as they both stretched out their wings, there was a scream,  
“Uncle Zira!” But Aziraphale was gone, gone to be with his red tangle of a demon once more.  
Aziraphale and Crowley flew up to the stars, entangled with each other, never to be parted again.


End file.
